Beyond the Gates
by Quill-and-Parchment
Summary: Who said twins always pick the same side? Who said death was the end of all things? Who said brother and sister who serve different sides could not be together again? Death-fic of a sort. OC. During and post-TLO.


**Beyond the Gates**

_by_

_Quill-and-Parchment_

Sometimes he wondered if he had made the right decision.

At the time, it certainly felt like it. His father had abandoned his mother to him and his twin sister. Nothing had come, not even a good-bye letter, when their mother lied on her death bed, her liver cancer finally preparing to take her life. He had hated the man who walked out on them before, but at that moment, his hatred intensified to the point of no return.

It was before she died that Mother revealed to them their true nature. She explained, in that weak, half-dead voice that makes shivers run down his back and nauseous with fear, that they were half-bloods. Demigods. Half mortal, half god. It was obvious that they got their mortal side from their mother. Gods don't die.

Hermes. That was their father's identity. God of thieves, travelers and medicines. Ironic. It was he who stole their mother away from them. It made him wonder if every other son of the thief god's experienced some sort of loss familiar to this. If so, how could they love him?

After Mother passed away, the monsters started coming. Mina, always the big sister (two minutes older!), had done everything she could to protect them both. Even so, they had difficulty surviving on the street and against the products of nightmares that should never have been real. He learned to fight faster than Mina, and soon he took over when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. She was much better with a bow. She had always had great aim.

Five weeks after they were forced to join the Half-Blood Run, as they've come to name it, they encountered the Hunters of Artemis. It was the first goddess he'd seen, and he had to admit, her look seemed very deceiving. However, the pure aura that radiated from the twelve-year-old girl with the auburn hair and cool silver eyes had made his knees weak. Her Huntresses weren't much better. They treated him with moderate politeness, but otherwise kept their distance. Mina got much better attention. For that, he was glad toward them.

But then Mina decided to join the Hunt. She betrayed him. She turned away the company of men, and he was a man. Had she not seen it? Had she not seen what would happen? Abandoning her own _twin_ brother?

That arrow that was lodged in his thigh had done much less pain.

He cursed her. He yelled at her until his throat was dry before turning and running out of the camp, his chest unusually tight. She could hear her cry out his name and begging him to listen, but he didn't care. Snatching up the sword he often wore, he shot out of that place and kept running, because anywhere except that place would be good. It was a miracle he didn't trip and fall; he saw nothing. Everything was obscured behind a film of mist in his eyes. No matter how many times he wiped it, it would always come back.

He joined up with Kronos. The hatred he felt toward the so-called gods had escalated beyond imagination. First they'd taken away his mother, and now his twin sister was gone. He vowed to serve the Titans without need of being asked. He vowed in front of Kronos that until he dies, he would not give up.

This would be the final war. This, here, in New York. In his hometown.

Silently, he stood on the street, looking around at the devastation of the place. He remembered this place. It was where he and Mina would always cross when they go to school. He remembered the conversations they immersed themselves in, arguing away the morning walk. Sometimes they would reach an end, and after a few moments of silence, realized neither of them made sense. They would laugh it off and continued to walk.

He glanced west, his eyes softening. Yes, those were good times. Good times before Mother's death, before Artemis, before Kronos, before…all of this. He tired of this war. He tired of having that unexplained tightness in his chest whenever he came across a blonde girl clad in silver jackets and combat boots, a bow in her hand lying in a pool of her own blood.

Yet still he fought. Why? Because there was no backing out now. He'd given his word. He'd gotten himself too involved to run. And he did not wish to run. There was nowhere to hide. There was nowhere happy to hide now that Mina was on the battlefield, too. He just wished he could see her and tell her that he was sorry. He never did apologize for saying all those things to her, back then.

Not that there was much time.

His eyes were drawn back to his right shoulder. An arrow lodged there, and the wound was burning, although he only felt it distantly, like it wasn't really a part of him. How strange. Maybe it was poisoned…but Apollo children never used poison arrows. Or did they change tactics now?

Shameful. Didn't the good guys have honor anymore?

His throat tickled, and he coughed. The tangy taste of copper coated his mouth, and he spat out a frighteningly large blob of blood. He sank to his knees, then to his side. He was so tired…so sleepy. And he knew that if he sleeps, he would never wake again. He would never see Mina again. She was a Hunter of Artemis. Maybe she would go to Elysium. And he…he would be trapped in the Field of Punishment forever.

But death means escape. Escape from all this pain, all this war, fear, and everything else that had plagued his life for as long as he cared to remember. A way out.

He took it.

0o0o0o0o0

The next time he woke up, he was lying on a vast green field.

It was strange, to say the least. He sat up, looking around with apprehension. If this was the Field of Punishment, then Kronos loves to wear pink. Or was this some sort of mistake? An illusion? Something that was designed to make him more miserable than he already was when he was alive?

"It's not an illusion."

The familiar voice made him whip around, although he did not get up. For the longest of times, he stared at the smiling figure before him, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. How – this – this couldn't be. After all he's done –

She grinned at him, that lofty, playful smile that was offered to him most of all, that always made him feel special. "Hey, quit gaping at me. We've seen stranger things, right?" Raising up a hand, she flicked a few stray blonde strands out of her dimpled face. Typical.

And suddenly, it doesn't matter anymore. He sprang to his feet, and laughing aloud, Mina held out her hand, blue eyes sparkling with delight. "Come on, brother. We are home!"

He took her hand, and together, they ran forward. Away from the past, away from the monsters, away from war, from hatred. Across the field of Elysium. Across the other heroes who stared after them and grinned and wave. But he did not care.

He laughed aloud, the sincerest, most delightful laughter he had given in so many years. After all is said and done, they are still brother and sister.

Screw the war. Screw Kronos. Screw the gods, too. Screw _everything_. This was enough. He didn't care who he has to thank, but all that wasn't important right now. What matters is the feel of the hand that fit into his like it was his own, pulling him along.

After all, when everything was said and done, they were still twins.

_That_ would be something that never changes.

* * *

_Sometimes even the bad guys deserve a happy ending. I guess this should do. Hope it didn't sound too Disney-ish._


End file.
